The Dark Night of the Soul

Beginning in February of last year, there was a series of really difficult situations in my family life. My mother-in-law, who lives with us, had a big health scare and ended up in the hospital for about 3 months while she recovered. She almost lost her leg due to an infection. Because she was going to be in a wheelchair indefinitely when she came home, and we would have to be caring for her, we were told by the doctors and social workers that she would not be able to come home to the second story apartment where we live. There is no one else around to care for her, so the message was pretty clear. We had to move. Period.

Initially I handled this quite well because I had no doubt that God was going to take care of it. I knew that we did not have the additional money that it would take to pay rent on the new, bigger place that we now HAD to have. It was going to take a miracle. I also knew, however, that God can make the impossible possible. I knew that God “owns the cattle on a thousand hills”, as the psalmist writes, and our financial status doesn’t have anything to do with His ability to bless us with the home we needed. God had to provide. There was no other way it would work. I KNEW he was going to work it out.

In fact, I knew that he was going to use this situation as the catalyst to answer the prayer I had been praying for several years. Finally, we were going to have the bigger home we needed for our growing family. (FYI, we have 5 people living in a two bedroom upstairs apartment. I‘ve been asking for this for a long, long time.) I was so excited and full of faith about it, that I even told people, “I just can’t wait to see what God is going to do!” So many people were praying for us that I was really looking forward to going to everyone and saying, “Look what God did!” Honestly, I’ve never had such strong faith in my life.

We were on a time table for when our miracle had to happen, because, according to the social workers, we had to be moved to our new place before my mother-in-law could be released from the rehabilitation hospital, and they couldn‘t keep her forever.

During this time, things became very difficult, financially. We were driving back and forth to the hospital several times a week. We had to spend more money on fast food and hospital food (which really isn’t cheap, by the way) and gas. One of our cars broke down. We got behind on the rent one month and the landlord threatened to evict us. In spite of this, I believed with all of my heart that the Lord was going to come through for us. It was hard, but I knew that He would work it out in the end.

We had been talking about the situation with a lot of different people, and one day the mother of a child at my daughter’s school mentioned that she knew of a family who was needing to move to a bigger home and was looking for someone to rent their current house. They would have to have renters ready to go for the financing on the new house to work, so they would need people who could be flexible about a move in date. She said she would talk to them and that she felt like the situation would be a good fit for both us and them. I was so excited that it looked like this was how God was going to provide our new place to live. I waited patiently to hear word. I was trying hard to give God the time and space to work things out. I didn’t want to rush and ruin it. A few weeks went by with no information. When I finally heard from her again, the news was that the family had decided not to move right now. I tried not to let this discourage me too badly, but it was hard not to wonder why God had let it come up at all if nothing was going to come of it.

Finally, in May, my mother-in-law’s insurance money ran out and the hospital stopped caring about a ground floor home for her to live in. She was walking some, by now, and so they brought her by ambulance out to our place to see if she could walk up the stairs on her own. It took her a full 30 minutes, but she made it up the stairs. They released her a couple days later. They sent her back to the place they had told us so strongly, for three months, that she absolutely could not live in again.

So that was it. No miracle. No wonderful evidence of God’s bountiful provision. Nothing.

Things became more difficult and crowded than before. Now we had 5 people in a two bedroom upstairs apartment along with a wheelchair, a walker, and special equipment for the toilet and the shower.

I don’t know if I can adequately describe the freefall that I went into at this point. I had spent 3 months believing with all my heart that God was going to provide in a big, amazing way. I had put all my trust, all my faith, all my expectation that my “Father in heaven will give good gifts to those who ask” (Matthew 7:11) and He had ignored me. I had claimed the promise in Mark 11:24 that Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. I had believed like never before and, guess what? I didn’t receive what I asked for. God didn’t provide.

In September, there was a glimmer of hope that things could change. A lady I know at church approached me about a job opening at the company she worked for. It was right in line with my current job, but the pay was significantly higher than I was making. I kind of thought it was too good to be true, but I still believed that God could come through and maybe, if I followed through on this opportunity, it could be the answer to our prayer. She assured me that she had my resume and let me know that I would also need to fill out the application online. I did that and waited, anticipating, finally, our blessing of provision.

A week passed. Then two. Then I saw her at church. She apologized because she had never gotten around to submitting my resume. Because they didn’t have it with my online application, it was therefore incomplete and never considered for the position. I wondered why I had dared to hope for it in the first place. I felt like I was being teased these possibilities that always came to nothing.

I didn’t know how to answer the well-meaning people at church who asked periodically how things were going. The honest answer was that I felt that God had let me down. He didn’t show up when I needed Him. When I tried to talk about my disappointment, a couple of people said, “God did answer your prayer. You just didn’t like the way He answered.” While I’m sure these people meant well, this response didn’t help. It only made me angry.

I got so tired of this type of “pat” answer, that I mostly stopped talking about it. I say “mostly” because I couldn’t keep it entirely inside. I did talk to my husband. A lot. I’m sure he got tired of hearing about it.

My frustration about this spilled over into every area of my life. I began questioning God and His goodness. I stopped believing that my prayers mattered. I started seeing evidence all around me of the seeming randomness of “God’s Will”. Why does He heal one person of cancer, but someone else fights long and hard with many family and friends praying and believing for a miracle only to die a long and terribly difficult death? Why does a woman who desperately wants children struggle for years to conceive only to miscarry or have the baby be born too soon and not survive when there are so many other women who abort their babies or neglect or abuse the children they have? It doesn’t make sense. If God is so loving, why does He allow the atrocities that happen all over the world every day?

Around this same time, I learned of a young pastor’s wife who had just given birth to her second child. The baby boy was born with a chromosomal abnormality called Trisomy 13. She was chronicling their journey in a blog. You can ready their story from the beginning here: http://lisahusmann.wordpress.com/2010/10/11/its-an-extra-special-boy/

It’s long, and heart wrenching. Basically, Lisa Husmann and her husband had moved across the country to plant a church, at the leading of the Lord. Shortly after they got there, they discovered that their unborn child, whom they had decided to name Jaxton, had severe birth defects and probably wouldn’t be born alive. Against all odds, he survived to birth, but his condition was worse than originally thought. This young couple spent every day of their son’s life praying, trusting and believing that God was going to heal their child. Even down to the moment when, after the doctors had done everything known to repair his body and there was nothing left to try, they made the decision to remove his breathing tube and trusted God to do what the doctors couldn’t. Lisa’s baby boy breathed his last breaths in her arms when God didn’t heal him.

Because of the blog, people around the world started following their story and joined in the prayers for healing of this little boy. But it didn’t matter how many people were praying or how strongly they believed. God didn’t show up.

Now, I have never met this couple, but after reading what they were going through and adding my prayers for Jaxton’s healing and strength for his parents, I felt like I kind of knew them. When Lisa’s friend posted the update that Jaxton had gone to be with Jesus, because Lisa couldn’t face doing it herself, I sat at my computer and cried. I couldn’t believe that God had let them down.

Lisa’s story was just more evidence to me that “God’s Will”, if it exists (because I was doubting), is not necessarily good for those who are supposed to be His children and under His protection. Where was Jehovah-Rapha, (“The Lord our healer”, Exodus 15:26) for the Husmann family? Where was Jehovah-Jireh (The Lord will provide: Genesis 22:14) for my family?

I won’t go into all the details and specifics of my doubt and anger. I’ve filled pages of prayer journals with all my questions and accusations to God. It all really came down to two issues for me. First: Do my prayers matter? If God is going to do what He wants whether or not I pray for something and how much I believe doesn’t make a difference, then why bother?

Second: If being a Believer and serving God to the best of my ability doesn’t mean that God is going to protect me (and my children, for that matter) from the terribly difficult things that can happen in life, then what’s the point? Am I willing to trust God to direct my life if it means that He might, and probably will, have enormously hard things He wants me to go through?

I told myself that He loved me enough to handle everything I was throwing at Him, but mostly I felt that I was miserably failing some kind of test that He was putting me through. To add insult to injury, I began to accuse myself of my own lack of faith. I knew that what I was dealing with was not really a big issue in the grand scheme of things. I was reminded of Christians in other countries who are tortured and see their family members murdered for their faith, yet they stand firm. I had thoughts like, “You call yourself a Child of God, but you fall apart and question God’s sovereignty over this? In the Middle East, people face death for believing in Christ, but you’re going to get mad because God didn’t answer your prayer. You’d never survive as a Christian outside the USA. You aren‘t strong enough.”

Sometimes I would remember that in the Psalms, David yelled at God a lot and accused Him of not caring or answering. For example:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me,
so far from my cries of anguish?
My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,
by night, but I find no rest. Psalm 22:1-2

And also:

You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.
Your wrath lies heavily on me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.
You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
But I cry to you for help, LORD;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
Why, LORD, do you reject me
and hide your face from me? Psalm 88:6-8, 13-14
　

So, there is definitely precedent for the questions I was asking God, but we are also told not to waver in our faith. Not to doubt God, because:

When you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. James 1:6

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but also you can say to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and it will be done.
Matthew 21:21

And of course we shouldn’t question God’s goodness in our lives or what he has us going through because:

We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:27-29

Not a day passed that I didn’t wrestle with these things and fight to keep my faith from dissolving. I know that nearly everyone thinks about these things at one time or another, and I have, too, but slowly I began to realize that this was different. I couldn’t get away from it. For several months, I struggled every day just to hold onto my belief that God was real and that He loved me. I kept going to church and I stayed serving in a couple different ministries, but I didn’t know how long I could keep it up. The fight was wearing me out.

Maybe you could say that I was depressed, but I believe that it was more than that. I now believe that I was under a spiritual attack. I believe that the enemy and his forces found a place in my mind that was weakened from stress, disappointment, fatigue, and fear and they took full advantage of it. They plagued me with constant reminders of the ways God had “let me down” and they ways He doesn’t “live up to His end of the bargain” every day, all over the world. They kept me in a kind of emotional and spiritual darkness that only the brightest of occasional lights could shine through. That’s not to say that I never laughed and I was never happy. The times of joy, though, were tempered by the heaviness that weighed me down all the time. I believe that I was going through what has been referred to as "the dark night of the soul".

Not too long ago, our pastor said this is one of his sermons about going the distance in your faith, “Crisis always reveals who you are. It brings the real you to the surface.” This statement hit me pretty hard and the internal dialogue that followed went something like this: See? Crisis came and you fell apart. That’s the real you. Questioning your faith for MONTHS because of one little crisis. You thought you were strong, but take a look at yourself. This is truth. You can’t hold your faith together when it counts.

In the beginning of March, the youth pastors at our church spoke on a Sunday night. Pastor Lynn used an illustration that I have heard before, but this time it made a real impact on me. They told the story of the nine year old boy who was taken by his mother to see a world famous concert pianist perform. The boy was taking piano lessons and she wanted him to see what could be possible if would dedicate himself to his lessons and putting in the practice time.

While the audience was waiting for the concert to begin, the mother turned away from her son and engaged some of the people around her in conversation. The boy wandered away from his seat and made his way up to the stage. He walked up to the huge, beautiful grand piano and sat down at the bench. Then, to the astonishment of the audience, he began to play Chopsticks. You can imagine the murmuring that began. “What’s he doing up there?” “Where is his mother?” “Who would bring a child here?” “Someone get him away from that piano!”

Offstage, the pianist heard the commotion and, though it wasn’t time for the concert to start yet, he went to investigate. When he saw the boy innocently playing the little song, he walked onto stage and went right up behind the boy. Leaning down, he whispered in the child’s ear, “Don’t stop. Keep playing.” The master musician then began to play along with him. He added chords and harmonies that turned the plinks and plunks of the child’s rendition of Chopsticks into a masterpiece of classical music that left the audience in amazement.

“How many of you feel like a little child tapping out the notes to your little song on a huge piano in a concert hall and feeling completely inadequate for position you find yourself in?” she asked.

This analogy resonated with me because one of the ministries I am involved in is singing with a worship team. I know that God wants me doing this, but I feel so inadequate. I find my own ability to be so much less than what I believe is necessary in order to be effective. I do it, though, because I believe that it is what God has called me to.

“Right now,” she said, “God is right behind you saying, “Don’t stop. Keep playing.” He can take your little melody and craft glorious harmonies around it that will make it into so much more than you can do on your own. More than you can even imagine. You just have to keep playing.”

There was much more to the sermon, but this story opened a floodgate in me. When the pastors asked for anyone who wanted prayer to come to the front of the church, I couldn’t help but go. I stood there before God, with many other people, and felt His presence wash over me in a way that I haven’t felt in a very long time. All the pain and doubt that I had been carrying around for the past year came pouring out in a flood of tears. It’s very difficult to explain this kind of feeling to someone who hasn’t experienced it before. God was suddenly so very close to me and the love that I felt from Him was overwhelming.

I don’t know how long I stood there while God poured His love and peace into my soul and washed away the fear, doubt and anger from my heart and mind. I know that when I went back to my seat I felt free. And joyful. I sat for quite a while, unwilling to leave because I didn’t want the experience to end.

After a few minutes, I heard these words whispered to my heart, “You passed the test.”

That night was a turning point for me. The circumstances of my life didn’t change. I still don’t understand why things have happened the way they have. I still don’t know why God allows the horrific tragedies that occur every day around the world. The difference is that, now, I don’t have to know. Those questions don’t plague me anymore. I can see them and feel the pain of them and still know that God is sovereign and He will take care of it in the end.

In the following days, I began to understand, that God had allowed me to go through those dark months to see if I would hold on to Him in spite of the way I felt. Would I hang on and wrestle it out with Him, taking my anger and fear to Him? Or, would I decide that if it didn’t make sense I wasn’t willing to believe and walk away?

I’m so glad I didn’t give up. This experience has given me insight, though, into why someone would. It has shown me how a Christian can become so hurt and disillusioned by events of life that they would decided that if God would allow such things to happen, they don’t want to serve Him any more. And if this honest pain, fear, and anger is magnified by the enemy, it can easily be built into a wall that separates the child of God from his Creator.

I had one glorious week completely free from fear and doubt. One week of refreshing and spiritual rest. Then the old thoughts started coming back. Now, however, I recognize those thoughts for what they are: attacks from the enemy. I refuse to allow them to take root in my mind. I will not go back into the oppression of the spirits of doubt, anger and fear. Now, I will choose to hold onto the promises of my Father in Heaven, who has promised in Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”


And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. 1 Peter 5:10

Child of the Night

This is a poem that I wrote a few years ago when I first found out about the trafficking that is happening all over the world. I spent three weeks praying, crying and writing this piece. It was the most difficult as well as the most important thing I have ever written.

I've only ever shared it with a few, select people, but God has put on my heart to share it here, today. So, here it is:


Child of the Night

Lonely little girl, taken from her home

Sold by desperate parents to a world that’s dark and cold

Only six years old, her innocence stripped away

By the highest bidder who shattered her soul that day.

Used her for his pleasure then tossed her to the side

While she cried for her mother and frantically tried to hide

She’ll scream out in pain
She’ll cry out in fear
She’ll call out for help
But no one will hear

It hurts too much to feel
It hurts too much to see
It hurts too much to recognize
What’s happening to me
　

When she tried to run away, they tied her to the bed

Ignored her screams of terror and wracking sobs of dread

It didn’t take too long for her to stop the fight

Numbly accept her fate to live as a Child of the Night

Her spirit broken, her body bruised, her mind in a thousand pieces

Resigned to live a life of fear and pain that never ceases.

　
It hurts too much to feel
It hurts too much to see
It hurts too much to recognize
What’s happening to me
　

She’ll scream out in pain
She’ll cry out in fear
She’ll call out for help
But no one will hear

No one but God whose heart breaks each time

A little one is violated. He’s pierced by each cry

Each horror committed by a depraved man’s lust

Will not remain hidden, in this you can trust

What’s done in the dark will be brought to the light

God will avenge each child in his might.


It would be better for them to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around their neck than to cause one of these little ones to stumble. Luke 17:2

Finding Time For God

“You have to be reading the Bible every day. EVERY DAY. You must cultivate the discipline of being in God’s Word and spending quiet time with Him every day.”　

“It isn’t enough to pray in your car on the way to work. You have to find the time every day to spend alone with God. He wants to be the most important thing in your life and you have to make that dedicated time for Him.”

“Set your alarm for a half hour earlier in the morning. You need to spend that time reading and praying so that you can start your day out right. If you don’t do this, you will not be prepared for what is going to come at you during the day.”
　

I have been hearing this kind of message throughout my life. If you are in the church world very long, you will hear it from the pulpit, from your Sunday School teacher, from the youth pastor, from you small group leader, from conference and seminar speakers and from your friends. I have been hearing more than normal lately, and have been feeling guilty because of it. I’ve also been wondering if that’s really what God intends for us.

When I was a teenager, I started getting the message of how important it is to read the Bible every day, read the whole Bible in a year, etc. I asked my parents for a One Year Bible for Christmas, and when I got it, I committed myself to doing it. The whole Bible in one year. I started out pretty well. Genesis and Exodus are interesting. Leviticus was hard because of all the tedious laws about the sacrifices, the different offerings, cleanness and uncleanness, etc. There was enough story in there, though, that I stuck with it and Numbers. I was getting bored, though. All the instructions regarding the building of the temple and ark and the curtains, and altars and tents, and clothes for the priests, and rings to hold up the curtains, and the job of each different priest and rituals for the sacrifices and what to do with the meat and the fat and the blood, and on and on and on. Soon I was a few days behind, then a few weeks, then I had stopped altogether. When I realized I had broken the commitment I had made (to God and my youth pastor and myself) the guilt set in. I tried really hard to catch up, but it was just too overwhelming and I ended up just giving up.
　

The next New Year, I made a resolution, again, to read my Bible every day. I did well for a couple of months. I was so proud of myself for developing the habit and being disciplined. But then school got harder and finals came and before I knew it, I had not been reading like I wanted for a few weeks. The habit I worked so hard to get into disappeared with no effort whatsoever. Once again, the guilt set in. Why couldn’t I do this? There must be something inherently wrong with me that makes me so undisciplined. God must be so disappointed in me. Other people can do this, why can’t I?
　

This cycle has repeated itself so many times in my life, that I have sort of accepted that I’m just never going to be able to live up to the standards that God has for his children in this area. I do keep trying, hoping that this time, God will help me and give me the strength to keep going, and finally be the Christian He expects me to be.
　

The last few months have been a bit of a dry spell for me, in terms of reading my Bible and doing my devotions. Here’s an example of why.
　

Monday’s schedule:
6:45 – Get up. Get the kids up. Get them going in getting ready for school. Get myself in the shower.
7:15 – Tell the kids they need to get dressed and make sure they have clothes picked out to wear. Get myself ready for work.
7:45 – Remind the kids that they still have to get dressed because today is a school day.
8:05 – Grab a couple of granola bars for the kids because they haven’t eaten breakfast yet, give the kids their backpacks and drag them out the door.
8:10 – Drop them off at school. Drive to work and pray that I’m not late.
8:28 – Arrive at work just in time. Begin the work day.
5:00 – Leave work and head home.
5:15-5:20 – Arrive home. Eat some dinner quickly.
5:35 – Start getting everyone ready to go to church for Celebrate Recovery tonight
5:50 – Leave for the church
6:05 – Arrive at the church and rehearse the worship for tonight’s meeting
7:00 – Lead worship for CR and attend the meetings
9:30 – Head home from church
9:45 – Make the kids get themselves ready for bed
10:00 – Get the kids in bed

Once I get the kids in bed, I have a little time to spend talking with my husband, maybe relax and watch an episode of something on tv, answer my email, or read a book and then get things ready for work in the morning and go to bed around midnight. Before bed is usually when I read my Bible. But, I’ve been taught that this isn’t the right way do to it. The “right way” is to do it in the morning. If only I was a morning person.
　

Every day isn’t like this, but Wednesday is similar. Thursday, too. If I were to get up a half an hour earlier, then I’m up at 5:45 and I’ve gotten only 5 to 5½ hours of sleep (assuming I fall asleep right away). According to the marriage classes I’ve taken, if I want my marriage to work, I should be praying and reading the Bible with my husband every day, so I need to make the time for that in my schedule. I also need to be doing devotions with my children every day or I am neglecting their spiritual development. So I’m failing on that account, too. And, I have to have my own, personal quiet time with God. Every day. I’m not saying it’s impossible; I’m sure there are people out there that know how to make this work. I just haven’t figured out how, and it is a great source of guilt in my life.
　

Recently, based on something I heard on Air1 (the Christian music radio station I listen to), I’ve been rethinking this whole thing. The DJ said something along the lines of this: “Your relationship with God should be a relationship. I don’t know about you, but I don’t talk to my friends every day. Not even my best friend. There are even days I don’t get to talk to my wife all day, because I’m out of town or something. That doesn’t mean I don’t love her or that she isn’t a priority in my life. If I go for a period of time without talking to a friend, I call him up and say, “Dude, I’ve missed you. What’s going on in your life.” It’s no big deal. They aren’t offended that I’ve been busy. Why do we think that things should be so different with God?”
　

I’m sure there are all kinds of theological answers as to why “things should be so different with God”. I’ve been mulling this over, though, during the past few weeks. Christians haven’t always had the Bible that they could own for themselves and have the luxury of reading every day. Until the invention of the printing press, even the ministers didn’t have copies of the Bible to preach from. First century Christians only had the copies of the letters that later became the Bible that they passed around between themselves. Generations of Christians lived and ministered and spread the gospel without a Bible. Were they less saved than we are? Were they less sanctified? Did they have less power in their daily lives because they didn’t have a Bible to read on their own, every day; if they could read at all?
　

I’m not trying to downplay the importance of the Bible or reading it on our own. I absolutely believe in the value of reading the Bible. I feel blessed to live in a country where they are easy to come by and I own several different versions. I have read the whole thing. (Just not in the space of one year.) However, I don’t remember reading anywhere in its pages, “Thou shalt read thy Bible and spend 30 minutes praying every day”, though.

Here are a few verses I did find that are somewhat related to the subject.

Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Joshua 1:8

　
Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates, so that your days and the days of your children may be many in the land the Lord swore to give our ancestors, as many as the days that the heavens are above the earth. Deuteronomy 11:18-21

　
Pray without ceasing. 1 Thessalonians 5:17
　

I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you. Psalm 119:11

If there is something in the Bible about the need to be reading it and spending designated time alone with God, and you know where it is, please show me. Most of what I’m seeing, though, involves keeping our minds on the things of God.

I talk to God throughout the day with mental prayers about whatever comes up. I contemplate the things of God while I’m doing my job, caring for the kids or making dinner. I'm sort of inclined to think that maybe that's good enough for Him.

So, what do you think? Are we held to different standards because we do have the Bible? Do you think it’s ok to go a few days without reading it? Is it ok to use commuting time in the car as “quiet time with God”?

　
Do you think that God intends for us to feel this pressure to “be in the Word” every day or could this be a modern day – evangelical version of salvation by works? Since the enemy is soooo good at taking something wonderful and twisting it around to trip us up in any way he can, could this be something that he uses as a way to convince us that we will never be able to live up to God’s expectations and to keep us striving for something we can never attain and feeling downtrodden instead of resting in the grace of God?

Maybe it’s just something the enemy uses on me, because up until now, it has worked.

　
I would love to hear your perspective and comments on this subject.

Just Wait. I'm Not Done Yet.

Last Sunday morning, I was helping my daughter get ready for a kids choir performance at church. We were in the bathroom and I was helping her dry her hair after her shower. I asked her to flip her hair over so that I could make sure the underside was completely dry. When she flipped her hair back, she looked in the mirror and frowned at her reflection.

I turned the dryer off. “What’s wrong, Honey?”

Her brow furrowed and she folded her arms. “My hair is so messy! Everyone will laugh at me.”

I tried not to laugh. “Well,” I said, “I’m not done yet.”

“But it’s all poofy and it looks funny. I don’t like it.”

“Sweetie, I know it looks kind of crazy right now, but it’s not finished yet. Just wait. It will be fine I promise.”

She only scowled at the mirror, unconvinced. “Watch and see,” I told her.

I went back to work, brushing, blow-drying, curling and hair-spraying. Slowly the scowl melted away.

“Now,” I said when I was done, “how does it look?”

A smile lit her face. “Good.”

“Does your mom know what she is doing?”

“Yeah,” she said reluctantly.

“Even when you can’t see how it’s going turn out?”

“Yeah,” she responded.

“Maybe next time you’ll trust me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Go get your shoes on. It’s time to go.”

It wasn’t until God brought that conversation back to my mind the next morning that I realized the significance of it. How many times have I had that same conversation with Him?

“God, I’m following you and trusting you to guide me, but look! My life is a mess! What’s going on?”

I’m not done yet. Don’t worry.

“But God, I don’t understand! Don’t you see what’s happening? What kind of witness can I be for you when nothing is working out?”

I have it under control. Trust me.

“I know I should trust you, but…are you SURE you know what you are doing? I mean, this is a disaster! What are you doing to me?”

I’m taking care of it. Just be patient.
…
…
…
…
OK, Beloved. Look now.

“Oh. Well, how did you do that? That’s amazing! I can’t believe it!”

So, does your Father know what he is doing after all?

“I guess so.”

Even when you don't understand what’s really going on?

“Yeah.” (sheepishly)

Will you trust me next time?

“I’ll try to remember.”

Of course, the time table we are on isn’t usually the 10 minutes it took me to fix my daughter’s hair. The amount of time we will have to wait to see how our Heavenly Father is working things for our good varies greatly from situation to situation. It can be months or years (or longer) before we get a glimpse of how God is weaving together the threads of our lives with the threads of others into a beautiful and intricate pattern. And, like in a tapestry, the individual threads are only aware of their own twists and turns and those around them in those moments when their paths happen to come into contact. From the inside, I can imagine that it would look like a huge mess. When viewed from above, though, the true design of all the intersecting threads can be seen. It’s so much bigger and so much more intricate than we can fathom. Much of it, though, won’t be understood until we truly view it the way it was intended to be seen. From the vantage point of eternity.

Be confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6

My God Shall Supply All My Needs...

And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:19

I grew up in church. I have been in church nearly every Sunday of my life. I know this verse. I also know that this verse, among others, teaches us that we are supposed to trust God to take care of all our needs (and this means “needs”, as in food, shelter, and clothing, not “I need a new iPad”), and problems. What I haven’t been able to work out, is how to do that while still living in the day-to-day of those problems, though.

I do believe that God will meet all our needs, in theory at least. The challenge comes when in a good month the paycheck doesn’t stretch far enough but then in a bad month, the car breaks down, the rent is past due and the landlord is threatening eviction. I pray about these issues, but I don’t see the car miraculously healed or money fall from the sky to appease the landlord.

Now, I can look back at that month and see that we got through it. Barely. We came up with enough money so that we didn’t get thrown out of our home and the car eventually got fixed. It was hard, though. Really hard. And scary. I didn’t know how I was going to get to work, some days. This is how my thoughts go in a time like that, “If I can’t get to work, I won’t be able to earn any money. And if I can’t earn any money, I can’t pay for the car to get fixed. If we can’t get the car fixed, I can’t get to work. If I can’t get to work, I can’t pay the rent. If I can’t pay the rent, we have nowhere to live. If I have nowhere to live, the kids will get taken away. . . .” And on and on it goes. If I go down this path, I’m living in panic instead of peace.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

Peace of God, which passes all understanding. It sounds so wonderful. I have experienced it before, but that was in a very difficult crisis situation. I don’t think that this peace is meant to be only for crisis situations, though. I’d like to think that God means for us to have it all the time.

Recently, I realized that I think myself out of being peaceful. I can’t let myself just be. I don’t know how to be content with how things are and where I am. I’m trying to trust God to direct my steps and answer my prayers, but I can’t help trying to figure out when He’s going to move and what he’s going to do. If left unchecked, my mind will go through endless “what if” scenarios, which I know will never happen, because:

"My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. Isaiah 55:8

I know that I’m relying too much on my own knowledge, which I’m not supposed to do because:

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. Proverb 3:5

Besides, when I can’t figure out how things will ever work out, I get discouraged and depressed, which only perpetuates the cycle. The thing is, God has reasons for doing things when and how He wants, and I should be able to trust that He has everything well in hand.

I should be able to. I’m working on it.

Sometimes . . .

Sometimes I think there must be a place where things go right and life is not so hard.
Sometimes I think there must be a time when everything isn’t falling apart.
Sometimes I think that if only I was smarter, more talented, stronger, more determined, then I wouldn’t always be struggling.

I’d like to know where that place is.
I’d like to know when that time will be.
I’d like to know how I can be whatever I should be so that things would go easier.

I’ve been learning that no matter how it looks, everyone has pain.
Everyone has struggles.
Everyone is just trying to do what has to be done to get by.
It just doesn’t seem that it should be that way.

Maybe I’ve just grown up watching too many movies that ended “Happily Ever After”.
Maybe I’ve seen too many tv shows where the problems are all solved by the end of the hour.
Maybe I have an unrealistic view of how life “should” be.

I wonder if people who lived in the old west felt that they were meant for more than what they were doing.
I wonder if people in medieval England thought that life wasn’t meant to be so hard.
I wonder if ancient Egyptians longed for a time when problems didn’t exist.

I think the pioneers must have looked at the vast night sky and wondered about their place in the universe.
I think the serfs must have watched the royalty and wished for that kind of life.
I think the slaves must have daydreamed of being an owner rather than the owned.

How strange that we all want purpose and value.
How strange that we also want everything to be easy.
How strange that no matter where we are in life, we want things to be different.

It makes me think that we must all be born designed to live in God-created Eden, but are thrust instead into a world designed by men. This place, with it’s sin, hierarchies, jobs, rules, and expectations is so different from what we were meant to live in that something within all of us knows that it just shouldn’t be this way. We just don’t know what to do to make it right. There’s no way to fix it, so we just do whatever we can to dull the pain of it. We try to block out the wrongness of it.

I think that’s why, as Christians, we long so much for Heaven. We know that finally things will be right when we get there. When being here becomes more than we feel that we can bear, we hold on to the hope that one day we won’t have to be here anymore. We can someday be where we were meant to be. We can be in the place with no more tears. We can be reunited with those we love who are no longer with us. We can be with the One who gave His life for us. We can be where we belong, because we certainly don’t belong here.